Kira
by Kira81
Summary: Very humorous fan-fic, which is perfectly enjoyable, even if you've never heard about Oblivion.


**Note: I am not a native speaker (or writer, for that matter), so there will be typos and awkward descriptions here and there. Feel free to contact me about those and point them out, so I can make corrections accordingly.**

**Chapter I - Enter Kira**

The beetle happily climbed a blade of grass to enjoy the first rays of sunlight, which painted the West Weald in soft, warm tones of red and orange. Yes, this was certainly going to be the best day of its life! Then, without warning, the little insect's world turned dark as it was grabbed by a furred hand and tossed into a mouth full of sharp teeth, which crushed the life out of the bug.

"Hmm... crunchy!" Kira was on all fours, carefully scanning the grass for possible friends and family members of her breakfast, her tail swishing back and forth in excitement.  
"Eww! Yuck! That's so gross!" Spark turned away in disgust.  
"Oh c'mon, Spark! You've never tasted one, so how can you say that?"  
"What if that was a dung beetle? Aren't you afraid to get sick?" She flicked an ear in confusion.  
"Sick! Bah! Dung is said to be full of minerals and the bug looked perfectly healthy to me!"  
Agoran cleared his throat to get their attention. "Ahem... are you quite done, yet?"  
Kira got up and stuck her tongue out at him. "Pffft! No one asked you, Stinky!"  
"Stinky? How many times do I have to tell you this isn't me? It's the alchemy ingredients! It's not my fault alchemy requires so many parts of dead animals and fungi and what not. Anyway..." He pointed east. "Bravil is still far away, because _someone_ was too stubborn to spend some gold on a horse! Let's get going, shall we?"

Kira bit her tongue and started walking. Her companions had joined her to help her on her mission for the Fighters' Guild in Bravil and upsetting them would have been a bad idea. Most of her unusual, white fur was hidden by a dark cowl and her black leather armor, which was reinforced with heavy steel plates. Her arsenal of weapons, which consisted of two katanas, a longbow and a quiver full of silver arrows rattled and clanked with every step.

Spark was the exact opposite of Kira. She was taller, her sand-coloured fur always carefully brushed, not trying to defy the laws of gravity like Kira's. Her light armor allowed her to move with feline grace and agility, enabling her to sneak up on her enemies to slit their throats with her blades, without ever letting them know what hit them. Together, they were the embodiment of chaos and sexiness. And one could easily tell which of them played the former and which of them played the latter part.

Agoran the battlemage was the oldest member of the little group. He was also the least talkative one of them. There was no dark and evil aura about him, though - he was merely more focused on the task at hand and not getting distracted by beetles, flowers or wild sheep. His dark, flowing robe made him appear even more serious, almost majestic.  
Kira silently cursed herself for refusing to buy a horse. Her feet hurt and her heavy gear made her sweat. She felt the need to tell her friends about how her butt starts itching whenever she sweats under her tight, heavy armor, but they'd only nag at her. Stupid expensive horses! Stupid sun! Stupid feet! Stupid armor! Stupid butt! Stupid... what 

the...

A fearsome battlecry interrupted her inner monologue. A bull-headed monster jumped on the road from behind a tree, easily one foot taller than the Khajiit and at least three times her weight, its tan, muscular body almost fully exposed, save for a loincloth around the waist. The little bones and fangs on the creature's necklace danced back and forth as the monster was waving its crude war hammer at Kira. She hissed, her lips curling back to reveal her sharp, bone-white fangs. "You want a piece of me, minotaur scum? Come get it!!" She charged at the monster, smashing the hilts of both her katanas into its teeth as she unsheathed them, not noticing the second minotaur, which appeared behind the group to attack Agoran with a massive stone axe.  
"Kira! Over here", he yelled. The air around his hands flickered as he began to focus his energies. He prepared to fire a bolt of lightning at the minotaur, but it was already too late. The monster sent him flying with a powerful blow of its axe.

Kira kicked her opponent in the groin with the steel-tip of her boot and then broke the monster's nose with her forehead, using her thick skull like a weapon. When the minotaur hit the ground, she turned around to face Spark, who rammed both her short swords into the other minotaur's belly. She paused to watch it sink on its knees, then ripped her blades out, tearing him wide open. "And you call _me_ gross for eating bugs! Did you _have_ to exectue him like that?" Then, in the corner of her eye, she saw how the first minotaur got back on its feet, trying to run away. She sheathed her katanas, let out an annoyed sigh, drew her bow and shot it in the back.

Agoran was still on the ground, with his face in the dirt. Kira kneeled down to turn him around. "Ewwww! I think the cow-boy broke his neck!" Spark's ears flattened. "Bastards!", she hissed. "Hey, Spark! Look! I think his Eye is coming out! Whoa! Now it's stuck on my finger! Coooool!"  
"Will you _please_ stop it? Maybe a really experienced healer could resurrect him!"  
Kira looked at her with a wicked grin. "Well, looks like you gotta carry him to Bravil."  
"Bravil? That place is a half day away from us! And why am I the one who gets to carry him, huh?"  
Kira gently bounced up and down a few times, her katanas, arrows and bow making lots of noise. "You know... if you'd like to carry my heavy gear and have me running around naked with a corpse, then..." "Alright, alright, just shut up, already!"

Kira lifted the young Breton's corpse to help Spark put it on her shoulder. Spark's eyes widened as a stream of blood gushed out of Agoran's wound and splattered on her armor. "EEK!" She jumped back and Agoran fell head on into the dirt again. "Damn! Why did you do that?"  
"He's bleeding on me! I can't carry him!" "Hmm..." Kira rubbed her chin. Then she grabbed one of Agoran's legs. "You grab the other one. We will drag him to Bravil, together."  
"Umm... Kira? Don't you think we should turn him on his back before we start dragging him all the way to Bravil?"  
"Whoops!"

The noble Sir Cronk examined his mighty broadsword a last time before sheathing it, strapped his giant tower shield on his back and put on his winged pot helm. The weight of his bulky suit of plate mail was enough to bring any man to his knees, but the huge, muscular orc moved around in it, as though it had been made of cardboard.

His white steed's eyes widened, as he proceeded to mount it. "Ahh, my faithful Louise! We are on a quest today, to hunt down an infamous criminal! It may not be the most glorious mission of all times, but I shall make a name for myself as an Orcish knight step by step, you'll see!"

Louise wheezed under the heavy weight of her owner and slowly carried him outside the gates of Bravil, one step at a time.

"So, what are your plans here in Cyrodiil, Kira?" Spark sat next to Agoran's corpse, massaging her ailing feet.  
"What do you mean?" Kira's muffled voice came from behind a bush.  
"Well, you know... Are you just gonna become another one of those sword-swinging fighters' guild grunts now?"  
"Oh, nonono! I'm doing this to boost my reputation a bit, maybe earn a little gold, but I really want to travel the land, become a famous treasure hunter, that kind of thing."

"WAH!" Spark jumped up as a huge crow landed on Agoran's head and proceeded to peck at his remaining eye. "Um... Kira? Think you could help me here?"  
"No! What's going on?"  
"A crow is pecking at Aggie's corpse!" Spark watched in horror, as the crow dug the eye out of Agoran's skull.  
"Well duh, scare it away! It's just a bird!"  
"But Kira, it's kinda huge... why can't you do it?"  
"?Because my friggin' _pants_ are somewhere around my ankles!?"

Spark looked around, picked up a rock and tossed it at the crow. She missed the bird by a few inches as it flew away and hit Agoran in the head. Kira sighed, as she stood behind Spark, rearranging her pants. "Nice, Spark. Nice..."

Sir Cronk followed the road that leads from Bravil to the Imperial City and Skingrad. His overburdened horse slowed him down more than doing him any good, but every true knight should have a horse and Cronk was in no hurry, knowing the criminal he had been sent to kill was said to be coming down this road, anyway.

He pictured himself in his own fortress, commanding an order of knights, sending them out to help people in need and make the world a safer place. Yes, he would be doing great things and become a known hero! And then the lovely Mazoga would come to his fortress and they'd spend all night and day on the warm, cozy furs by the fireplace and he'd f... "Halt, Louise!"

The orc's train of thoughts was interrupted by what sounded like angry shouts. "I think this is coming from the river. Wait here, Louise!" Sir Cronk dismounted and carefully walked towards the upper Niben, his horse keeling over behind him.  
He spotted a shrouded black figure and a Khajiit, who seemed to be dragging somebody behind them.

"Way to go, Kira, really!" Spark hissed.  
"Oh shut up, will ya? He lost his other eye because you were afraid of a stupid _crow_!"  


"So what? Let's walk along the river, to avoid getting ambushed by bandits, you said. Let's sit by the river and rest for a while, you said! It's _your _damn fault he got washed into the water and we could only get him back after the slaughterfish had chewed his leg off!"  
Kira rolled her eyes and waved the severed leg at Spark. "Yeah, yeah, I have it right here, so they can attach it again, provided the guy isn't beyond healing, anyway!"

Kira and Spark stood side by side when they detected an armored figure, who walked towards them. Kira hid the severed leg behind her back. Best not alienate strangers with severed limbs! Spark glared at her. "Why the heck are you even _trying_ to hide the leg, while there is a friggin' corpse right next to us", she whispered.

"Good day to you!" Sir Cronk bowed to the Khajiit and pointed at Agoran. "Have you been ambushed?"  
Kira nodded. "We are on our way to Bravil to have him fixed by a healer."  
The orc hesitated for a moment. "Fixed? As in, prepared for his burial? Your friend appears dead to me! Everybody knows that even the most powerful healers cannot raise the dead. Unless... you're not selling corpses and random body parts to necromancers, are you?"  
"Noooo, of course not... heheh..." Kira dropped the severed leg and kicked it into the river behind her. "We were just taking him to Bravil to have his last rites performed for him, so he can get a proper burial."

"Sucks to be him", Kira whispered. Spark hit her in the side with her elbow. "Heal him, huh? We could have buried him right there, but nooo, we had to carry him all the way here and protect his dead ass with our lives!"  
"Hey, didn't _you_ say a skilled healer might be able to help? Grrr!"  
Sir Cronk kneeled in front of Agoran's corpse. "By the gods! He is missing his eyes, a leg, his skull is cracked... what kind of psychopath could possibly do such a thing?"  
Kira cleared her throat. "Erm... yeah, we're lucky to be alive, really."  
Sir Cronk picked the dead Breton up and nodded at them. "Bravil is not far from here. I'm on a quest to hunt down a dangerous criminal, but I can't leave two ladies behind like that. I shall carry your friend to the gates of Bravil for you, so you can bury him there."

He waited for Kira and Spark to move, then followed close behind. The taller, sand-coloured Khajiit wore a suede doublet and suede pants, dyed in midnight blue. She carried a little toolbag and two short swords. The other Khajiit was covered almost entirely in black armor, only her white tail swishing back and forth in front of him as she walked towards the road to Bravil. White tail?

Sir Cronk stopped. "Excuse me, mylady..."  
She turned around and gave him a confused look. "Would you reveal your face to me?"  
Kira and Spark looked at each other, then looked at Sir Cronk. "Huh?"  
"I suppose it's only fair if I start." The orc lifted his pot helm, revealing his green-skinned face, a massive jaw with giant, tusk-like teeth and thick, black hair tied to a pony tail. "Now, if you would please show me your face..."  
Kira shrugged and removed her cowl, showing her cat-like face, which was so typical for her kind. Her snow-white fur, however, was rather unique.  
"You are Kira, are you not?"  
"And why does that matter to you, orc?" Her ears flattened.  


"Clearly abhorred by the gods, themselves, with that sickly look of yours."  
"You know, that really hurts, coming from an orc with such bad breath and a face so ugly, I might as well be talking to your butt! What do you want with me, anyway?"  
Sir Cronk put his helmet back on. "You are a wanted criminal."  
Kira tilted her head in thought. "Wanted criminal... Ooooo that guy I punched in the face?"  
"_Punched_? They say you've nearly killed him!"  
"Well, he was drunk and he wouldn't leave me alone until I punched him and then a tooth came out... and then a lung or something..."  
The orc drew his sword. "Either way, I'm going to have to kill you now. I hold no personal grudge against you. It's my mission."

Spark reached for her blades, but Kira shook her head at her. "It's alright, let me play with him for a while." She unsheathed her katanas, one of them faintly aglow with ice energy, the other one burning with magical fire. "Well then, shall we dance?"

Cronk stormed towards Kira, ready to strike her down, as she threw herself to the side, rolled past him and prepared to strike. The orc whirled around, parried her attack with his shield and sent her flying on her back. "You're fast for a fat, chunky orc! Why is a knight like you hunting down so-called _criminals_, anyway?" She jumped back on her feet.  
"It is my duty to fight for the weak!" He attacked her with a mighty, vertical swing, which Kira blocked with both her katanas, high above her head. She kicked Cronk in the shin, causing no more damage than a slight dent in his greaves. She looked up at the armored orc. "Uh oh!" He sent her flying again with another powerful shield bash.

"So you're one of the good guys, huh? Fighting for fame and fortune, that kind of stuff?" She slowly got back on her feet again.  
"What would a criminal like you know about good deeds or fame?" He released a furious howl and rushed towards her. "Not this time, buddy!" Kira waited for him to get close enough, then pounced him, hoping to throw him on his back. To her great surprise, Cronk was still standing and she was merely giving him a comical hug now, her legs wrapped around his waist. She hissed, dropped her swords and grabbed his helmet, took it off him and threw it away.  
Kira repeatedly punched him in the face with both her fists until he finally started to grow weak on his knees. "If it's fame and fortune you want, you're free to join me. Turned out we just got a vacant spot." She hit him in the face again, full force. The orc stumbled and ended up falling on his back, Kira sitting on his chest, continuing to mercilessly pound his face into pulp.  
He groaned and spat blood at her. "I'd rather die than join the likes of you. Kill me if you want, at least I will die in battle!"

She wiped the blood off her armor and got off his chest. "I'm no murderer. And I'm not a criminal. In fact, you and I are both after the same thing. So, you could join me, so we can fight for fame and fortune together. Or I can spend the rest of the day punching you in the face, it's really up to you." Kira reached out for him with her hand. "What do you say?"  
Sir Cronk sat up without her help, wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand and looked up at the Khajiit. "Not many would dare to attack me like that... and live. And yet you didn't rob or kill me. Perhaps I was wrong about you, after all."  


"Of course you were. And now get up and come to Bravil with us. We still have to bury our friend here and we're on a mission for the fighters' guild."

And so, the three of them stepped through the gates of Bravil with a dead body and an exhausted horse. In the distance, there was the cry of a fisherman. "Oh ye gods! A human leg!"

Chapter II - Something in the air tonight

Somewhere in the candle-lit depths of a hidden cave, a young Dunmer was chanting ancient, black magic spells. His hands rested on the chest of a rotten corpse, which had been placed upon a crude altar made of solid rock. The dark elf gathered all his energies, felt them tingling in his chest as they grew ever more intense. He held his breath, fully concentrated, and slowly began guiding them towards the corpse. His palms started to glow and the air around him crackled with magical power.  
The corpse slowly began to float several inches above the altar. The Dunmer's red eyes widened under the hood of his light brown robe, his heart starting to pound like mad. He would complete it this time! He was so close!  
He swallowed and small droplets of sweat covered his forehead as he tried hard not to lose focus. The dead body floated towards him and slowly shifted into a vertical position. The dark elf chanted his dark formula again, shouted it out and demonic, red flashes of lightning rocked through the twitching corpse. Then all became silent and the body slowly came back to the ground and stood on its feet.

The robed Dunmer excitedly walked around the standing corpse a few times. "Did... did it work? Oh... okay, Thalassan, calm down! Let's give this a try!" He walked several steps away from the corpse, turned towards it and said, "Zombie, I command you to come here!" And the rotting corpse slowly began to waddle towards him, mechanically, a dead body animated by the blackest of magicks to do its master's bidding. Thalassan cheered. "Yes! YES! Hahaha! Soon, my undead friend, many more zombies shall join you and then I will form an army and have them invade the cities and plunder everyone's homes! I'll be rich and powerful beyond imagination! Hahahaaaa!"

Thalassan took off his hood and revealed a mane of untamed, white hair. He peered around the cave for his servant, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Zombie, you wait here!"  
The young necromancer stepped outside and gazed into the night. "Naala? Naala! Come here, you useless lizard!"  
"Yes, master", a scratchy voice replied in the distance and out of the dark, an Argonian in a light brown robe, similar to Thalassan's, appeared, a small basket in her hands.  
"Naala! What in Oblivion were you doing out there?"  
"I was picking flowers, master!" She proudly showed him her basket. He took a deep breath, raised his fist at Naala and prepared to yell at her, but then he just sighed.  
"Naala, have you ever heard of any successful necromancers who decorate their hideouts with flowers? And what.. what's up with **this**?" He waved a light-brown sleeve of his 

robe before her green, scaly face. "Weren't you supposed to dye them _black_?"  
"Yes, master, but the dye washed out too quickly. We should try putting it on red or green robes in the future, instead of plain white ones." She nodded excitedly as she told him.  
Thalassan glared at her as she was standing before him, both hands firmly attached to the handle of her flower basket.

"Anyway, there is something I'd like to show you." He beckoned her inside and presented his newly-created zombie. "Zombie, come to me!" And once again, the undead corpse waddled towards him.  
"Oh master, you have completed the spell this time! And so quickly! Surely, you are a natural at the dark arts of necromancy!" The zombie stood before them, motionless, awaiting new orders.  
Naala tilted her head. "Hmm... something is missing." She thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. "Oh, I know! Zombie... can you moan for me, please?" And without hesitation, the zombie began to moan and groan in a creepy, zombie-like fashion.  
Thalassan's eyes widened. "No.. what! NO! STOP! _I _am your master! You are only supposed to follow _my_ orders, you stupid, rotting idiot!"  
The zombie stared at him with its cold, dead eyes. "Hurr...?"  
Naala gently tucked at the side of his robe. "Aww, don't be so harsh with him, master!"  
"_Him_? It's a living corpse! It's almost skeletal! It's not a person, it's not a him or her, it's just a thing, a slave, a mindless, undead soldier!"  
Naala chuckled. "You have to admit, though, the moaning was a pretty nice idea! Right, master?"  
"Get out of my sight before I skin you alive! BOTH OF YOU!"

Kira, Spark and the noble Sir Cronk had spent the night at an inn after burying the remains of Agoran. The next morning, they were exploring a ruined fort after getting detailed information from their fighters' guild client in Bravil.  
"Why would a bunch of ogres want to live in a place like this?" Spark grimaced at the dirt and dust that covered the crumbling stone walls around them. She lit every torch along the walls of the wide corridors as they carefully ventured deeper into the ruins. Khajiit eyes can see more shades of grey than those of any other race in all of Tamriel, but even their ability to see in the dark required at least _some _light to work. Besides, Cronk would have been entirely blind, had it not been for the torches.

"With Bravil being just around the corner, it's the perfect place to have a quick snack on random passers-by and patrolling guards", Kira responded. "It's perfect for monsters."  
Cronk, who had been leading the way through the seemingly abandoned fort, stopped abruptly and raised his hand. "Hush now", he said and pointed at some dried blood splatters on the ground. Him and Kira drew their weapons as they cautiously moved on, Spark lighting more torches behind them with the one she held in her hand.

The corridor lead to a hall, which contained the remains of some old, rotted wooden chairs and a huge dining table. Most of the furniture was smashed into pieces and the floor was littered with bones. "Well, at least they figured out what the dining hall is for and ate their victims right here", Kira whispered.  


Suddenly, a deafening, wild roar seemed to shake the entire fort! Spark watched in horror as a huge, hideous creature charged at her. She dropped her torch and proceeded to draw her blades, but the ogre had already reached her and hit her with a mighty backhand blow. The Khajiit crashed into the wall like a lifeless little puppet, before she slowly fell to the floor and remained motionless.  
Kira rushed towards the ogre, slid down under it between its feet and thrusted one of her katanas right into the monster's back. The pale, hairless humanoid howled in agony, but to Kira's great surprise, it quickly whirled around and threw a mighty punch at her with its large fist, the katana still stuck in its back. The ogre hit her entirely unprepared and Kira landed flat on her back. Fiery circles danced before her eyes as she slowly tried to get on her feet again. She felt a stinging pain in her right arm and fought for her consciousness.

Meanwhile, Sir Cronk fought for his life as a second ogre appeared from the far, dark end of the hall. He parried several punches with his shield and then launched a flurry of attacks. His broadsword dealt various bleeding cuts to the monster's thick, leather-like skin, but eventually, the ogre stopped his sword mid-swing with its bare hand and broke the blade apart.

Kira held her burning katana in her left hand, her right arm dangling lifelessly. She anticipated the ogre's next attack and ducked away under its blow, then slashed the monster's belly with a quick sword strike. It screamed in pain and hit Kira with another punch, throwing her right on top of the old dining table. She gasped and her chest burned like fire. Although visibly wounded, the hideous creature seemed nowhere near finished and slowly limped towards the white Khajiit to finish her off. Kira could hardly breathe, one of her katanas still stuck in the monster, the other one lost somewhere on the ground when she got whirled onto the table and the pale-blue giant steadily moving towards her. As it reached her and raised its oversized fist to crush the life out of her once and for all, she reached for her quiver, gathered all her remaining strength and sat up, ramming a silver arrow through the ogre's eye. She pushed it in as far as she could and spun the arrow a few inches until it was firmly stuck inside the skull. The ogre didn't even have time to scream and Kira rolled to the side and fell to the floor to avoid getting buried under the creature's lifeless body. Then everything turned dark around her.

Cronk pummeled his enemy into submission with one mighty shield slam after the next, only stopping every now and then to strike at the ogre with his armored fist. Unlike his fragile feline companions, he rivaled the monster in raw, physical strength and eventually, the monster became visibly slow and tired. It stumbled backwards a few steps and just when Cronk prepared to put an end to this fight, the ogre began to twitch several times, then dropped dead, revealing several arrows, which were stuck in its back.

The confused Orc detected three dark figures in the corridor, that lead to the dining hall. They wore leather armors and two of them wielded longbows. Strangely enough, they kept their bows ready and aimed at Sir Cronk. The third of them, a skinny old man with a grey beard and untidy, grey hair stepped towards him.  
"Well, well... looks like we came here just in time!"  
Cronk reached for the sheath of his sword, then let out a silent curse when he remembered his sword had been broken. "Who are you?"  
"Adventurers, just like you. Seems like we've just slain these hideous monsters. Too bad we didn't make it here before they killed you. But we shall inform the fighters' guild of 

your heroic battle and put your gear to good use after spending the reward, which we will get for killing these foul ogres. Do you have any last words?"

Thalassan was pleased. He had spent all morning animating a half dozen of the corpses he had been hiding in his cave. Soon, he'd be leading an army of zombies and start invading his first small village. Anybody who'd dare get in his way would make a nice addition to his little army. He inspected them excitedly as they stood ready, waiting for his command, blankly staring through their dead eyes. Or the gaping holes in their skulls where their eyes used to be. His excitement came to a sudden end as he heard a creepy moan coming from behind him. He turned and saw his first zombie, which had not stopped moaning and groaning ever since his servant told him to do so. There was a little hat on its rotting skull and it wore a necklace, which was woven entirely out of wild flowers. "NAAAAAAAAALAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

Moments later, the Argonian appeared from one of the many winding tunnels inside the cave. "Yes, master?"  
"Naala..." He took a deep breath, dropped his head and put his fingertips to his forehead as though he was suffering from migraine. "What... just..." he sighed. "What in the name of all Daedric princes is _this_?" Thalassan pointed at the zombie, which had been decorated so lovingly.  
Naala giggled. "Aww master, I just wanted Claude to feel a little appreciated, being a scary, rotting corpse and all."  
"_Claude_??"  
She nodded excitedly.  
"Naala, are you aware that I am going to become a feared and powerful necromancer, who will send his undead armies all over Tamriel to pillage and burn the homes of everyone who would dare to stand in my way? Do you think anyone will be scared if my zombies wear funny hats and flower-necklaces? This zombie is entirely useless to me now! Remove that silly decoration and tell him to STOP MOANING! It drove me up the wall when I tried to sleep last night!"  
"But master, why can't we leave him the way he is now? Just this once? Pretty please? I'll take good care of him and stay away from your other zombies! Please, can I keep him?"

Thalassan gnashed his teeth. "How about you and Claude get out of my sight and finally get us some black necromancer robes? NOW!!" Good servants were so incredibly hard to find these days...

The noble Sir Cronk could hear the shrieking sound of the arrows, felt them drumming against his heavy armor, piercing through it, tearing through steel, skin and flesh. So this is how the Nine wanted him to die, but he'd go down in a fight!  
He rushed towards the three bandits, the leader and one of his henchmen quickly backing off, the third of them glaring at the orc in horror, as Cronk grabbed his throat and slowly lifted him up several inches above the ground. Another arrow tore through his armor and right into his shoulder, but he barely noticed it, feeling little more than just a punch. He squeezed the thug's throat, crushed it with his plated fist and tossed the lifeless body to the ground. He roared fiercely and proceeded to approach his remaining two opponents, but his body refused to obey. He tried to focus on the blurry bandits, threw several 

punches but he only hit thin air. He could feel his warm blood oozing from several gaping wounds and all of a sudden, his armor weighed a hundred billion tons.

He kept on stumbling towards them, slowly, one step at a time. He had to pause when he was struck by another arrow, made a little step backwards, then blinked a few times to see the bandit leader, who seemed to carry what looked like a crossbow. The bearded man's lips moved for a brief moment, shaped a crude, sinister grin full of rotten teeth, but Cronk didn't understand him. So this is what dying feels like, he thought. He felt no pain. He was just weak and tired. So very tired. Then the bandit fired his crossbow. And the world faded to black.

**Chapter III - Rotten to the core**

_Poor unloved, rotten creature you,_  
_not quite alive, yet not quite dead._  
_Got no more toes to fill your shoe,_  
_but maggots in your head._

_Poor hated, feared, undead beast,_  
_unwanted - just like me._  
_So restless and yet so deceased,_  
_your friend now I shall be._

_Like me, you'll never know true love,_  
_mere slaves is what we are._  
_Neglected by the Nine above,_  
_and freedom is so far._

_I'll give you clothes, a hat a name!_  
_To him it might seem like a game..._  
_But you're a friend - my friend!_  
_My only friend..._

_-Naala_

Hector lowered his crossbow when the bloodied orc finally crashed to the ground after he killed an ogre and one of his men and got hit by several arrows and his iron bolt. Such a shame how Goran got killed by that nasty green beast, but that meant all the more loot for him and his surviving companion.

He nodded at Ulf and pointed at the lifeless adventurers. "Go and loot their corpses. They might have carried some gold or magical weapons. But be sure to slit their throats, just in case!" -"Aye, chief!"  
He stepped further into the hall and kneeled over the first of the three adventurers, a khajiit in a dark blue suede outfit. She was flat on her back, her jerkin rolled up a bit, revealing her furred belly. Her fur was short and shiny, almost golden in the torch light and felt incredibly soft to the touch. Ulf looked back over his shoulder and saw Hector 

walking back towards the corridor, probably making sure there were no more ogres nearby.

Ulf swallowed nervously, looked back once more, then slowly slid his hand a little further up her suede doublet. Without warning, from one second to the next, her eyes were wide open, huge, oval-shaped orbs of amber gazing at him. The young Nord wanted to shout for Hector, but he was mesmerized as she put a clawed finger to his lips. "Shhh...!"  
She drew him closer, purred at him, put her cheek against his and whispered, "Such a shameless boy! I thought you came here to plunder, not to explore...?" She shifted under him, his shivering hand was pressed against her chest now.  
"I hope you're enjoying this, because it's the last thing you're going to feel in this life!"  
Ulf gasped as the cold steel of Spark's blade pierced right through his heart. She gave his cheek a gentle stroke, petting him almost lovingly. "Hush now, it's almost over!" She bared her fangs and twisted her short sword with all her might, sat up and coldly pushed Ulf's corpse away from her.

She walked straight towards Hector. "You", she hissed. "You filthy piece of goblin crap dare attack us while we fight some monsters which you don't have the guts to face head on! And then you send your dirty little lapdog, who couldn't keep his filthy hands off me!" Hector prepared to aim his crossbow, but Spark reached for her belt pouch and pierced his hand with a throwing star in one quick motion. He screamed in pain as he held his bleeding hand and Spark grabbed him by his hair and smashed his head into the wall several times until he slid to the floor.

"Oooh no, we're not done, yet!" She sat on his chest and got a little vial out of her tool bag. She pinched his nose, so he'd be unable to breathe. "The choice is yours. You can choke now or open your filthy mouth!" He gasped and Spark poured the vial's clear fluid down his throat. She got back up and let go of the gargling and coughing Hector. "What did you do to me? What did I just drink there?" he demanded.

"I have poisoned you. Your intestines are slowly dissolving as we speak. Two hours from now, your innards will be but a bloody mess, which will pour out from every available exit. Nasty way to die, if I may say so." Spark shrugged at him.  
"You... you fiend! Tell me how to stop this process or I swear I will tear you apart with my bare hands!" Hector clutched his burning stomach. He could feel cold beads of sweat gathering on his forehead.  
"Tsk, tsk! I really don't think you're in a good position to threaten me."  
Hector felt weak. He could feel the poison eating him up from the inside. "Alright, alright... look! We were after the ogres, just like you, but there was no way we could have defeated them on our own, so we followed you instead and when I saw you were having trouble, it just came over me and... just tell me how to make up for it, please! I don't want to die!"

Spark tilted an ear. "Hmm... okay, here's the deal: Our horse is waiting just outside this fort - and I'll kill you without hesitation if you bastards have done anything to her! You will help me drag my companions outside and get them to town with me, so I can take them to a healer before it's too late! And then you will follow me to the fighter's guild and explain what happened, so you will receive proper punishment there! After that, I will give you an antidote!"  
Hector glared at her. "But... but I'll be dead in a little less than two hours! We will never 

make it in time!"  
"Well, we sure as hell won't if you just stand here and cry to me, so get moving already!"

Sometimes all it took was a vial of water and a convincing story.

A few days later, in a dark, hidden cave, Thalassan counted his loot. 20 Septims, a bag of potatoes, a pitchfork and some moldy cheese. Naala gave him a hug, but he just sighed and pushed her away. "Aww, master! It wasn't so bad for a first time, was it?"  
"Not so bad? Are you kidding? The villagers had seen my zombies coming from miles away and fled before I could get any fresh corpses for my army! And they left nothing of value!"  
Naala rummaged through the spoils their zombies had brought them from the village. "You know, master, if you'd give me 1 or 2 of the gold coins, I could go buy some vinegar and make a really nice potato salad!"

A skull hit the wall right next to her and exploded into a hundred little pieces. "Don't get upset, master, I'm only trying to help. Now that we've learned about how slow and easy to detect zombies are, we can plan our next attack in the middle of the night. Besides, there is an addition to your army now, even if it's just a little one."  
She pointed at an undead rabbit, which was nibbling a moldy carrot in a dark corner of the cave. He rolled his eyes. The rabbit had been already dead before he even sent his zombies there. How did she even talk him into animating it? And did he really want to get into a discussion about how zombies don't have to eat? How did she manage to make them moan and eat and wear silly hats and do all kinds of useless things, anyway?

Naala poured the potatoes in a barrel, grabbed the empty bag, took Claude by the hand and walked outside to sit in the grass. There she sang her secret little song to him and started shaping a potato-bag shirt for her only friend.

Bubbly, clouded darkness. And such noisy darkness at that! Woosh! Silence. Woosh again! Gee, how annoying! What is this, the ocean? Where was she, anyway? And how did she get that splitting headache? "Spark? Cronk! ...ogres? Hello?! Anyone?" Kira held her head. The intense pressure was almost unbearable and the noises she heard were no ocean, but merely the flow of her own blood.  
Sssst! Huh? Sssst! Several torches lit around her and Kira found herself in the old fort's dining hall again. A Khajiit, pretty much like herself, sat on a chair, resting her feet on the table while she was sharpening her katana. Sssst!  
"You have failed."  
What? She came closer to get a better look at the other Khajiit. "You have failed", she explained in an all too familiar voice and looked up at her. Her feline eyes gazed at Kira like glowing emeralds. She rose from her chair, sheathed her blade and slowly walked around the table, her hands folded behind her back. The sound of her armored black boots echoed through the hall with every step.

"Poor, poor Agoran! He never saw it coming, did he?" The Khajiit looked back over her shoulder, gave Kira that cold gaze again, her snow white tail swishing back and forth.  


"He was well-aware of the risks when he agreed to join us", Kira responded.  
"But he could still be alive if you had stayed closer! And wasn't it you, who refused to travel on horseback?" The mysterious Khajiit continued to walk around the table. Her black leather armor made faint little creaks.

Kira hissed. "So why the hell am I talking to myself here? Where are my companions?"  
The other Kira chuckled and walked up to her. "Don't you know?"  
"Just cut the crap and tell me already!" she demanded.  
Her mysterious twin bared her fangs. "They're all dead!"  
Kira gasped. "Spark... Cronk... even Louise?"  
"Didn't you see how Spark was taken out by the ogre in a single blow? And do you honestly believe that stupid orc could single-handedly defeat one of them, after he stood absolutely no chance against you? Believe me, the ogres are picking their bones as we speak. You've let them down and they died! You have failed!"

Kira drew her katana and started slashing away at her doppelganger. But each of her attacks were parried with ease. "Hahaha! Fighting with your own self, are we? What are you hoping to achieve?"  
"Shut up!" Kira launched another flurry of attacks.  
"Your friends could still be alive if you had fought for them with so much passion! Why did you drag them along? Fame and fortune? Spark died before you ever told her your feelings! And did Cronk deserve to die trying to protect you, just because you talked him into joining your little band of adventurers?"

She slowly sank to her knees and held her head. There was that unbearable headache again! Woosh! Woosh! She closed her eyes and screamed in pain. Woosh! Woosh! Woosh... woosh...

"Kira?"  
She groaned.  
"I think she's waking up!"  
Spark sat in the corner of the room, sharpening her blades. Ssst! "Are you sure this isn't just another feverish nightmare, Cronk?"  
The noble sir Cronk took the cold, wet cloth off Kira's forehead.  
"Ooo... au..."  
Spark jumped out of her chair and rushed to the side of Kira's bed. "You were right," she exclaimed excitedly. "She's waking up!"  
Kira slowly opened her eyes and blinked at her companions. Spark raised her hand. "Alright. How many fingers?"  
"Thirty...seven! Where am I?" She rubbed her eyes and tried to get up, but Cronk gently held her back.  
"We're at the inn in Bravil. You passed out for several days!"  
"_What??_"  
Spark shrugged. "Well, the ogre broke your arm and a few ribs, which then punctured your lung and... let's just say the healers had a hard time patching you up, but you were still lucky. Cronk over there was practically dead when the bandits got him! But our friend is tougher than a troll!"  
"Wait, what? Bandits?"  
Spark explained the events, which occured after Kira had passed out in all detail.

Kira reached out for Spark's arm and slowly rose from her bed to give her a tight hug. "Aww, I'm so glad you are still alive! Come here, Cronk, I wanna hug you t... um... Cronk?" Kira hesitated for a moment. "Spark, why is he turning away", she whispered. Spark put her hands on Kira's shoulders, made a small step backwards and eyed her from the head to the feet and back up. "Well..."  
"I'm naked, right?"  
"Yup."  
She took a deep breath and prepared to yell. "Why the..."  
"Shhh! Easy there! Broken ribs, punctured lung... remember? Can't fix that with a spell or two without actually looking at what's damaged, okay? So, we had to get you out of that leather suit to..."  
"_WE??_"  
"Hee hee! Just kidding! Don't worry, Cronk was knocked out, too, remember?"  
Kira mumbled and went back to bed to hide under her blanket.

Later that day, after getting her armor, the cowl and all of her traveling apparel back on, she sat down to talk to her companions.  
"You know, I've been thinking. First, we've lost Agoran and then the three of us nearly got killed. We might not be so lucky next time."  
Spark's eyes widened. "But... did you even see the reward we got for dealing with those ogres? And the bonus we got for finishing off the bandits and having their leader thrown in the dungeons?"  
Kira sighed. "Spark, all the money in the world won't buy us our lives if we fail on a quest!"  
Cronk shook his head. "I think we did remarkably well and with a little practice, we can overcome dangers much bigger than a bunch of ogres and bandits!"  
"A little practice? Cronk, it's a miracle you're still alive!"  
He laughed. "Haha! Yeah! Isn't that great? We were as good as dead and now we're back in top shape after just a few days! Restoration magic is truly amazing. I have a few new scars here and there, but those will only make me more popular with the ladies!"  
Spark nodded. "Cronk is right. Look, that ambush was unfortunate, but I think we can all trust and depend on each other and next time..."  
"_NO!_" Kira slammed her fist on the table and the other patrons at the inn fell silent. "There will be no next time! If I die, fine, that's my problem, but I can't risk the lives of the people around me whenever I fail!"  
Spark got off her seat and yelled back at Kira. "Hey, if you don't want us around, just say so! I don't _have_ to save your furry ass whenever you screw up!"  
"Fine!"  
-"_Fine_!"

Kira ran out and slammed the door shut behind her. Spark gnashed her teeth as she watched her go. Cronk patted her on the back. "Calm down, Spark, calm down. She'll be back."  
Kira ran for the next gate to get out of Bravil. She needed to get away from them! Bunch of idiots! Oh sure, we'll get better! Nothing can stop us! Let's take on a dozen ogres next time! With our bare hands! If they wanted to get themselves killed so bad, fine, let them! But she wouldn't have their blood on her hands! Grrrr! She growled and kept on running for hours. Her feet were killing her, but she didn't care. She was too angry and annoyed and just wanted to vent her frustration and running all day seemed to help more than yelling at her friends.  


Eventually, she slowed down and tried to figure out where she was. It was dark now and she had lost track of time. Why did Cyrodiil have to look exactly the same, no matter where you were? She walked through the tall grass, which swayed back and forth in the wind. In the distance, she could see the White Gold Tower of the Imperial City. She stopped and thought for a moment. Perhaps she should go there, have some rest and think about the situation some more.  
Her train of thoughts was driven completely off track when somebody bumped into her from behind and nearly made her fall flat on her face. "Oof! Watch it, you clumsy..."  
"Please! You have to help me! They're coming for us!" A robed Argonian croaked at her. She carried a flower basket and somebody waddled after her, followed by a bunch of soldiers.

**Chapter IV - Rot'n'Roll**

A little earlier, in a small village, not very far from Kira, Adelina sat at a small table in the corner of the little inn, drinking some stale, warm beer. The young Dunmer couldn't wait to get away from this place, but for today, she had traveled far enough. She'd just finish this disgusting pint of piss-warm beer and then she'd head upstairs and get some sleep at last.

All of a sudden, there were screams outside! The door flew open and a farmer yelled, "Run for your lives! We're being attacked by zombies!"  
Adelina drew a knife from the shaft of her boot and slowly walked towards the door to see what's going on. Some farmers were trying to fight off a bunch of zombies with torches and pitchforks. Others were leaving their homes and running for their lives, as more zombies approached and went into each of the small huts. Oddly enough, the animated corpses seemed to come out of the huts again after a while, carrying whatever they could find inside. Grain sacks, shovels, one of them even carried an old chair!

One of the braver farmers approached the zombies with his blunt short sword, but before he even got to do any serious harm to them, a furred little creature jumped him and bit his hand. He screamed in pain, dropped his sword and ran off, along with the other farmers. Was that a _rabbit_?

Adelina had no idea what was going on, but she'd rather sneak off now and think about it some other time. She stepped into the dark and proceeded to slowly walk away from the village, eyes focused on the plundering undead horde, that went from one hut to the next. "Hurrr...!"  
One of the farmers must have stayed near the inn the whole time, so she didn't even notice him at first. He wore a little hat and some rags, which faintly resembled a potato sack. "Gods, you startled me! Be quiet, or they will find us!"  
"Hurrr..."

The farmer grabbed her roughly, lifted her up and carried her off. She screamed. "What the hell are you... oh no!" She swallowed when she realized her mistake. She got caught by a zombie! Certainly they would eat her now or turn her into a zombie, as well! Well, for now the monster carried the dark elf on its shoulder and they were slowly leaving the 

village, several other zombies waddling after them, carrying furniture and other random objects. This didn't make any sense at all.

"They're coming back, master", Naala said excitedly. "I'm sure they were a lot more successful this time!" Thalassan sighed and followed his servant to the entrance of their hidden little cave, where about a dozen zombies were gathering. One of them carried a screaming woman. "Let me go, damn you!"  
Thalassan gave Naala a questioning look. "I don't remember ordering my zombies to take live prisoners! Naala, do you happen to know anything about this?" Adelina kept on screaming and protesting. Thalassan sighed and put his fingertips to his forehead, then proceeded to silence her with a sleep spell. "Naala, take her inside and tie her up. We'll talk about this after I've inspected tonight's loot. Zombies, take these things inside!"

A little while later, Adelina woke up in a cavern, to the sound of a dunmer's voice, scolding his servant. "Naala, how many times do I have to tell you to stop giving my zombies such stupid ideas? I told them to kill all the farmers and what do I get instead of some fresh corpses? A screaming woman! What are we supposed to do with her now?" Adelina didn't want to stay and find out, but she was tied up and forced to remain where she was.

"With no new zombie material, I'll never become the world's most powerful necromancer. Besides, have you taken a look at our hideout, lately? Chairs, drawers, random portraits, all kinds of vegetables, shovels... why don't you go outside and put up a sign? Thalassan's little pawn shop! Heck, you've already kidnapped our first customer!" Somebody giggled.  
"This is _not_ funny, Naala! What am I ever gonna do with you? You're so incompetent and useless and... argh!"

"Incompetent?" Adelina shouted. "Who ordered your zombies to attack _farms_? What kind of riches were you expecting from farmers?"  
Thalassan sighed. "Great, now she is starting, as well!" He stepped into her sight. "What do _you_ suppose I should do then, zombie fodder? What would you do, attack the imperial city with a hand full of zombies?"

"Yes", she said. "It's really not that difficult to figure out when you know what you're doing." Thalassan sat down on one of his newly-acquired chairs. "Well?"  
"Bah!" Adelina turned away. "Why would I want to help you? I'm your prisoner!"  
Thalassan nodded at Naala. "Untie her."  
"But master..."  
"I said untie her, you useless, rotten lizard, so do as I say!"

Naala was visibly hurt and without saying another word, she proceeded to untie their guest. Adelina got up and grabbed a chair next to Thalassan. "Alright, listen up. Of course you cannot approach the Imperial City directly, but if you just..."  
"Ahem..." Naala interrupted her. "Master, I really don't think..."  
Thalassan finally lost his temper. "Yes, I _know_! You don't _think_, you're always coming up with your crazy ideas, zombies with hats, flower necklaces, brown robes, you fail to carry out even the simplest of orders and always slow me down by acting like a total 

idiot!"  
"But..."  
"Get out of my sight!"

Naala grabbed Mr. Nibbles and put him in her flower basket, took Claude by the hand and looked back at Thalassan once more. "Goodbye, master", she sobbed and walked off.  
To his great surprise, Thalassan felt his stomach cramping up into a little ball and he was flushed with incredible guilt. He didn't know why, but he felt miserable for hurting her feelings like that. Bah! He tried to push it away. He couldn't allow himself to get soft if he wanted to become the world's most powerful necromancer! He nodded to Adelina.  
"Anyway, as I was saying..."

Naala walked up to the road, sat on a rock and cried. She felt so incredibly sad, lonely and heartbroken. She knew she was only his servant, but he had no right to insult her like that, not after everything she had done for him! "I'm sorry, Claude", she sobbed. "I'm embarassed you see me like this, but it has all been a little much for me, you know."  
"Hurrr..."  
"Yeah."  
She sniffed, held Claude's cold, dead hand and pet the undead rabbit in her flower basket.

"You know, I think we should travel down this road a bit, go to the cities, maybe find a place for us to stay, right?"  
"Hurrr..."  
"Right, let's go." She slid down the rock, hopped back on her feet and proceeded to walk down the road, when suddenly she heard a voice coming from behind her. She turned around and in the distance she made out a few armored figures with torches. She hesitated. She was used to hiding from people, to only come out at night, stealing a few things here and there for her master and herself to survive. But maybe these people were friendly?  
"Claude... what should we do", she whispered nervously.

The strangers came closer and Naala could hear their rattling suits of platemail. One of them pointed at her and shouted, "That robe! It's one of the necromancers and their zombies! GET THEM!!"  
Naala's heart stopped for a moment. How could she be so naive and walk around outside right after they had sent the zombies? "Run, Claude! Run!"

She ran away from the road, into the tall grass, hoping to be more difficult to detect that way. Claude waddled after her, but he had a hard time keeping up. "Hurry, Claude! Please!"  
The soldiers came closer, she could hear their shouting behind her and eventually, Naala had to let go of Claude's hand, because he slowed her down so much. "Please", she shouted. "Claude! You have to run! They mustn't get you! _Please_!"

Naala ran as fast as she could, fearing for her friend as much as for her own life. Fortunately for her, the soldiers couldn't run too fast with their bulky armor, but it was only a matter of time until they would catch her if she kept looking after Claude! "Please, dear gods, if you have not completely forsaken me, show me and Claude some mercy! 

He's everything I have!" She kept on running, looking back to Claude. "Claude, RUN!" When she looked ahead again, she barely had enough time to stop and prevent running into the Khajiit, who was standing before her, in the middle of nowhere. Without warning, she bumped into her and nearly made her fall flat on her face. "Oof! Watch it, you clumsy..."  
"Please! You have to help me! They're coming for us!" Naala croaked at her, a tight grip on her flower basket and Claude still waddling after her, followed by a bunch of soldiers.

Before she knew what was going on, Kira saw herself surrounded by four armored men, who had been chasing after the strange Argonian and her zombie. The dark steel of their chest plates was decorated with a crest, which she knew all too well.

"Say your prayers, necromancer scum", one of them shouted and gave Naala a rough push, sending her to the ground. He drew his sword to finish her off. "Hold it right there", Kira demanded. "What are Blackwood Company goons doing here?"  
The young Nord spared Naala for the moment and looked at the Khajiit, his sword still drawn. "Are you not with the necromancer?"  
"I'm not a necromancer", Naala protested from below.  
He kicked her in the ribs. "Shut up! You and your zombies have invaded Pell's Gate and tried to kill everyone!"

Kira walked up to him, ignoring the angry faces and drawn blades of his companions, ready to draw her own at any time. "So you're telling me this Argonian girl and that walking corpse over there eradicated an entire settlement?"  
Claude just stood there, moaning.  
"He's lying", Naala shouted. "We've never hurt anybody! Never! I swear!"  
"I told you to shut up!" Naala curled up and remained silent when the Nord kicked her once more. Kira could see his cold blue eyes turning into tiny slits in the torch light, as he turned back at her. "Don't get in my way", he hissed. "She is wearing a robe just like necromancers do and she is being followed by a zombie. And now I will collect her head and a handsome reward along with it!"

Kira bared her fangs at him. "You Blackwood Company bastards are always just after the profit, aren't you? Bunch of half-wit mercenaries! This Argonian's robe is nothing like that of a necromancer! And if she really killed everyone in an entire village, why isn't she using magic to defend herself right now? Why isn't the zombie helping her?"  
"I'm growing tired of you", he said, without looking at Kira, but rather at something or _someone_ behind her.

With a wild scream, Kira unsheathed her katanas, whirled around and parried the swing of a heavy longsword with her left blade and counter-attacked with her right. The burning edge of her katana cut its way into the side of her attacker's neck, nearly chopping his head off. The Redguard dropped his sword, sank to his knees and finally crashed to the ground in his heavy armor.  
She turned to face the Nord again.  
"One down, three to go. How well can _you_ see in the dark?"

One of the remaining mercenaries, an Altmer, sheathed his sword. "This isn't worth it", 

the High Elf explained. "I'm not risking my life for a few Septims, especially when that Khajiit is right and the Argonian isn't even the one we're supposed to kill."  
The other mercenary, also a Redguard, agreed. "He's right, Haukur! Let's leave them alone."

The tall Nord glared at them in disbelief. "Cowardly fools! She's all by herself! There's no way we could lose!"  
Kira pointed one of her blades at him. "You had better listen to your companions, pick up your fallen comrade and get out of my sight, or you'll find out how much of a chance you really stand against me, scoundrel!"  
Haukur gnashed his teeth and sheathed his sword.  
"We shall meet again, Khajiit, and then I will make myself a new rug out of your filthy hide!"

Kira watched him walk away, his companions carrying off the dead Redguard. When she was sure they wouldn't be back, she kneeled next to Naala, who was still curled up in the tall grass. "Are you okay? They're gone now."  
Naala shivered. "Don't hurt me", she croaked.  
"No one is going to hurt you now." Kira sat down at her side.  
Naala lifted her head a few inches and cautiously peeked at Kira through one eye, hesitated for a moment and then decided she was safe. For now. She slowly sat up.

"I don't know who you are, but you must have a serious death-wish, upsetting the Blackwood Company like that. Is it true what they said about you?"  
Naala seemed confused. "Blackwood... Company?"  
"You don't get around much, do you? They do all kinds of dirty jobs for money, much like the fighters' guild, but without the slightest bit of honour and without asking question. You can be glad they've only sent some inexperienced, low-ranked members after you!"  
Naala remained quiet.  
"My, you're a talkative one. What's your story? How come you ran into me like that, chased by those morons and a zombie?"

Naala turned her head away from Kira and looked at Claude. "It's okay now, Claude, you can come here. And please bring me Mr. Nibbles' basket, okay?" The zombie picked up Naala's flower basket with the undead rabbit inside and sat down next to her.  
"This is my friend Claude, and I am Naala", she explained. Then she told Kira about how she grew up to be a slave until Thalassan found her and made her his servant, how she stole for him and assisted him with his experiments until he created Claude. She told her about the attack on Pell's Gate and how she secretly instructed the zombies not to harm anyone. And about how she ran away from her master, now that he was oh-so busy with their hostage.

"So, Naala... what are you going to do now?" Kira asked.  
Naala shrugged. "I have never known anyone, but the master. I don't know where to go."  
Kira sighed. She didn't like where this was going.  
"Hurrrr..." Claude was moaning next to her. Kira got up to inspect him.  
"Say, Naala..." she scratched the back of her head. "Aren't you afraid to catch something, when you're with a zombie all day? They carry all kinds of diseases from the brownrot to gods know what else!"  
Naala chuckled. "Oh, don't worry! Sniff him!"  


Kira tilted her head. "What?!"  
"Go ahead, it's alright!"  
Kira cautiously approached Claude, holding her breath for a while, then she carefully inhaled just a little bit, then some more, then breathed normally.  
"What the... hmmm! He smells like mint! Almost yummy! What did you do to him?"  
Naala clapped her hands excitedly. "Oooo, I knew you'd like it! I've enbalmed him! I have extracted various plant juices and I rub them into Claude's skin every once in a while to keep him fresh. It stops the decomposing and keeps the maggots away!"  
Kira took a close look at his dead face. "Like leather. Mummified. Impressive!"

Naala laid down on her back to gaze upon the stars. "I have to take good care of him. He's my only friend, you know?"  
"Hmm...", Kira looked at him, lost in thought. "I don't think you'll make any more new friends if he keeps following you around, though."  
Naala quickly sat up again, clinging to her zombie. "What do _you_ know? He is all I have! I've never even been around people except when I had to sneak out at night to steal from them! I won't leave him behind!"  
"Alright, alright, relax! Look, I will head back to Bravil in the morning and I can take you with me, if you want to come along, but Claude will get us in trouble! If at least we had something to disguise him..."

Naala handed her a small pouch full of coins. "I stole this from the mercenary, when he tossed me to the ground."  
"What? How..."  
"The master needed me to steal for us, remember? All just a matter of practice!" She gave Kira, what looked like a crude, toothy Argonian smile. "So, do you think this will be enough for a disguise?"

The next day, a white Khajiit in black armor was seen stepping into the Lonely Suitor Lodge in Bravil, followed by an Argonian wearing a light brown robe and a mysterious person wearing an oversized straw hat.  
Kira asked Naala to take a seat with Claude and wait for her, while she'd go check on their room to see whether Spark and Sir Cronk were still in town.  
"But Kira, what if somebody..."  
"Calm down, Naala. I'll be back in a minute, just act natural, order yourself a drink or something, I'll be right back."

Naala sat down at one of the tables and looked around nervously. Most of Claude's face was hidden by the huge new straw hat and the fact he was missing his lips and most of his rotting teeth was covered by a long scarf. They also bought him a nice, long, loose cotton shirt and some pants, so on first sight, he looked almost alive.  
Naala's heart raced when one of the other patrons approached her. "Excuse me, but what's wrong with your friend? He doesn't look so good."  
"Oh, err... well, he... you know..." She stuttered. "That's my uncle Claude. He has a very bad cold, so he needs to wear a scarf. Andand... he's not allowed to talk. The sore throat, you know."  
"Hurrr..." Claude waved, just as Naala had instructed him to do if somebody talked to him, to make him seem more natural.

"By the gods! Your uncle has only three fingers! And look at his skin! Did... did you 

bring a leper in here?"  
"N-nonono! He's a veteran soldier! Lost a few toes and fingers in battles, got his hands burned in torture... he had a lot to go through. Please, mind his feelings."  
The other patron slowly backed off.

Naala let out a relieved sigh when Kira finally came back with her companions. After a short introduction, Spark sat down at the chair opposite to Claude. "Oooo, so this is a real zombmmf...?!" Kira covered Spark's mouth. "Hush! Are you insane? This is uncle Claude now, unless you want to spend the rest of your life in the dungeons! I don't want to get in any more necromancy trouble", she whispered.  
Spark flattened her ears and gave Kira an annoyed look.

"Anyway", Kira sighed. "I think we should split up the reward for our mission and everyone will continue on their own."  
Cronk spoke quickly when he noticed how Spark took a deep breath to lash out at Kira. "Before we end up having another argument, may I ask what caused your sudden change of mind?"  
"Look, I just don't want you to get hurt because of me. Or worse. It is my fault you nearly died, because I talked you into coming on our mission with me. And the ogre could have killed Spark just like it happened to Agoran and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it!"  
Cronk shook his head. "I think Spark will agree with me when I say we followed you by our own, free will. And to die for a noble cause is an honour for every true knight!"

Spark punched Kira in the side. "Yes, silly! Why do you always have to be so stubborn? It takes more than a hit on the head to kill me! Besides, if you're no longer tagging along with us on missions, then there will be a much bigger chance for us to fail and you'll have to feel guilty for not being near me in the first place! Pfff!" She stuck her tongue out.  
Kira rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, mock me all the way you want."

"Aww..." Nala sighed. "You should stay with them, Kira. They will be adventurers with or without you. That's not for you to decide. But if you go together, you'll get to watch over each other."  
"Hurrr..."  
Spark grinned. "See? Even Naala and the zombie understand that! I say, we'll take them along, as well!"

**Chapter V - Aromageddon  
**

_Fight by my side and there shall be nothing to fear,_  
_for I am the shield, and I will allow no one to harm you._

_Fight by my side and no one shall stop us,_  
_for I am the blade, and I will tear through anyone, who dares to oppose you._

_Fight by my side, for I am Kira_  
_and I will fight, kill and die for the ones I love_  


_and anyone, who steps in my path_  
_shall be torn to ribbons by my fangs and claws _

_-Kira_

(to be continued...)


End file.
